He's Gone
by Zoge Hetai
Summary: This is similar to Dead and Gone, except it goes a different route. Still sad and gory, but it includes Foyet. Rated T for blood and Gore


**Hello My lovelies! This is Zoge Hetai coming at you with a twist to one of my previous stories. This is a different spin on Dead and Gone. I moved this from where it was previously on Quotev, and there will be others coming as well. **

**As always, this is a one-shot for He's Gone. You are now tuned in to the Spencer Reid channel of Epic!**

Dr. Spencer Reid rummaged through the case that he had been given from the recent briefing. According to the recent killings, the unsub's MO was ritualistic sacrifices. What did not make sense to Reid was that the sacrifice was all they had in common. There was no specific gender that the unsub attacked, nor was there an age range. The unsub had no specific race or religion that they focused on. The guess that they were against a sexual sadist was debunked when all rape kits came back negative. With this, all they had to distinguish the killings from any other was the sacrifices. Reid reviewed the killing pattern once more, even though he had mesmerized it the first time. With slender fingers Reid flipped the page and continued to read the synopsis on the police report findings. He took no notice of a bulky build as it came up behind him. He yelped as a strong arm came around his chest, and a meaty fist started to rub on the top of his head; causing more and more friction to build up. Reid struggled to get away, but his teammate would have none of it.

"Morgan stop! I'm not a child!" Morgan laughed and let go of the man he considered of as his little brother.

The scrawny twenty six year old stumbled as the force holding him suddenly let go, and he was thrown back into the world of gravity. The file that he had had in his hand went flying to the floor. Paper and photographs scattered across the floor.

"Dang it, Morgan!" Reid bent over the scattered papers that lay strewn over the carpeted floor. The man he considered his older brother merely laughed as he saw the grim expression on the younger man's face.

"Sorry pretty boy, here let me help you." Morgan bent down to pick up a photo of a mangled teenager. The picture had nothing to do with the case, and as far as Morgan could tell, the Unsub was not going after young teenagers, but young men. Morgan looked at Reid with a confused expression. Without even lifting his head, Reid snatched the picture from Morgan. But Morgan caught his wrist in an iron grip.

"Let go Morgan." Reid's voice was taught, and his hand trembled in the slightest. Morgan stared at him for some time before their boss Aaron Hotchner called the briefing.

"Well talk about this later Reid." Morgan let go of Reid's wrist; revealing red finger prints where Morgan had held on to. He stood up briskly and left to the debriefing room, leaving behind a very distraught Spencer Reid.

Reid continued to pick up the rest of the pictures. His eyes wandered through all of the victims unseeing eyes. Their throats had been slit in the slightest, which caused them to suffocate on their own blood before succumbing to blood loss. The victims had suffered much before the killer blow. The coroner had revealed that the victims had endured strenuous torture before having been killed. The team had conformed, just from viewing and reading the file that the unsub had done an overkill. Not only had he shot the victims repeatedly, but he had also removed all organs. Each one of the victims was found dead next to an organized pile of organs. The fact that all of the victims eyes were opened showed that the unsub had no mercy toward human life. All rape kits came back negative, so the unsub had no sexual motives. From this, they could tell that they were dealing with a psychopathic sadist. Reid had no idea he had spaced until he felt a familiar touch on his shoulder. He looked up startled at his colleague Emily Prentiss. She smiled warmly at him, finding his shock amusing.

"Sorry", she apologized, "Didn't mean to startle you Reid, but we have to get to the briefing, I'm already late as it is." Reid only nodded and accepted her hand as she assisted him in standing. They both walked to the single door that led to the debriefing room. A large oval table took up the majority of the space along with a projector screen. All of the team members were already seated, and Garcia was in the middle of an explanation when they walked in. Their boss Aaron Hotchner gave them a disapproving look as they hurriedly entered the room and sat in the only empty seats left. Reid gave a quick smile to JJ as he sat down next to her. She greeted back, and turned her attention to the screen where Garcia continued to flip through pictures of the victims, their homes, and the scenes where they were found. Each was found on their back with multiple chest incisions. Their eyes had been blackened to where there was little to no white. All were placed with their legs together, and one hand on their stomach. The other was by their side with the palm facing up. On the palm was always a single roughly etched crucifix. Next to the body would always be a message. In the particular picture that Garcia was depicting, the message read "**And one day, the Lord shall return, and judge all those on this world**." An unconscious shiver ran through Reid's body.

Morgan continued to stare at the young man in front of him. Reid stared intently at the screen, and Morgan imagined what was going on in that genius brain of his. He had noticed the odd behavior before but dismissed it as Reid being, well, Reid. His mind traveled back to a half hour ago when he had found the odd picture of the mauled young man. Morgan knew that young men were not in the current killers M.O. So why would Reid have a picture of something that wasn't in the case file?

the briefing continued and ended with everyone being told to arrive at the jet in twenty minutes. Morgan looked up, expecting to see himself alone in the room. To his surprise, Reid was still sitting, staring blankly at the documents before him. Morgan stood and walked over to the younger teammate.

Reid slowly rubbed his temples as his thoughts continued to run wild. A file suddenly was slammed rather loudly onto the table where they were all sitting. Reid jumped unconsciously.

"Whoa Pretty Boy, calm down." Morgan placed his hand on Reid's shoulder.

Reid placed his head in his hands. With his thumb and index finger her pinched the rim of his nose.

"You okay Reid?" asked Morgan.

Reid merely nodded, brushing Morgans hand off his shoulder. Spencer stood and walked out of the briefing room, leaving a baffled Morgan behind. The birthday card that everyone had signed was left on the table, where they had placed it; hoping that their young genius would see that they cared.

CH.2

The day had gone by like any other, when they weren't chasing bad guys in near death situations. Reid had finished his paper work, and checked in with Hotch. He was about ready to leave when his boss called him into his office again. Reid slowly walked in. the sun was going down, and the blinds had been closed; causing Reid to have some difficulty spotting his boss.  
"Yes Hotch?"  
Reid asked into the dim office. Hotchner didn't reply, and with everyone else gone. Reid took a few tentative steps forward. He was about ready to leave when the lights turned on, and a loud SURPRISE, spoken by many; caused him to jump back. It took all of Reid's courage not to run screaming into the night, and about a minute for him to get himself together. The bright lights blinded him, but as his pupils finally received the correct amount of light, he could see why Hotchner had not answered. In the middle of the room was a birthday cake, and around that, was the team. Everyone was decked in a coned hat, that read HAPPY BIRTHDAY!, on it. Everyone was smiling, and Rossi took a step forward, grabbing Reid by his upper arm; pulling the young profiler into the seemingly happy moment. The baffled Reid let himself be dragged along, unaware to the others, that horrid memories were playing in Reid's mind. Emily placed a hat onto the twenty six year old's head. She backed away, and pulled him into a hug, like a proud mother would her son. Reid tried to look grateful, but the memorize kept pounding into his head; bringing back times in which he wished he were dead. Everyone congratulated him on his twenty sixth year of living, and moved onto the chocolate cake with vanilla icing. The knife came down on the baked good, and Reid felt the strongest memory overcome him.  
Quickly, he backed away, placing a hand over his face to hide the tears that had fought there way to the surface.  
"I'm sorry, bu.. but I just can't. I...I'm sorry."  
He made his way to the door, bumping into it like a drunk as he did so. Once he was past the door, he made a break for it. Uncovering his eyes, he let the tears fall, not caring who saw him as he made his way to his car. The images of his father and mother fighting, of his mother beating him while she was having an episode, and of his father telling him he was worthless.

FLASHBACK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_A five year old Reid walked into his family room, a thousand piece puzzle set in his small hands. He made a bee line toward the small couch, his small feet padding across the carpeted floor. Spencer quickly sat down on the floor, his back against the brown couch. A small coffee table sat directly in front of him. He placed the box ,with the pieces inside, on the glass coffee table. His small fingers pried the box open, and he let the pieces scatter everywhere. In the distance he heard two voices start to argue, yet again. His father and mother ranted on in the background, screaming at each other for the third time that day. Reid slowly began to piece the picture together, careful as to not lose any pieces. This continued for five minutes, until he was interrupted by a man, much older than Reid, stalking into the very living room he was in. The man sat down in the lazy chair across from Reid. His gaze never wavered as he continued to stare at Reid through hateful eyes. Spencer shifted uncomfortably under his fathers gaze. It seemed like an eternity before William spoke._

_"I hate you," He sneered at his son. "This is your fault. Your mother and I never fought until you where born. It wasn't until your scrawny ass appeared that your mother became schizophrenic. I keep wondering that if you were never born, maybe we would be happier." William pauses, only to chuckle at Reid's terrified expression. Spencer who had been looking at his father quickly looked back down, not wanting to see his hateful eyes. William quickly corrected this._

_"Don't you dare look away!" Reid's head instantly sprang up. He didn't want to anger his father anymore than he was now. William smiled, knowing he had total control over the tiny child before him. He decided to test his control. With his hand, he motioned Reid to come closer. "Come here," Reid slowly started to get up. "NOW!" William bellowed. Spencer quickly got to his feet, and placed himself a couple feet away from William. He stood there for a couple of seconds before he heard his father speak again. "Closer." He commanded. Reid did as he was told. He was now inches from William, who sat comfortably in his lazy chair. William looked his son over. The giant spectacles on his face made the tiny child even smaller. His mousy brown hair fell over his ears, making the already large ears seem bigger. Without warning, William brought his hand back, the back of his hand facing the child. He brought it down with an astonishing amount of force. A loud smack was heard as he hit the child. Reid didn't expect the blow, and he fell against the coffee table. William stood over the fallen child. Reid held onto the cheek that now showed a bright red hand print. William laughed as Spencer cried. Reid's shoulders shook from the sobs that came from his frail body, William roughly took hold of the shirt his son was wearing. When he brought the child to his level, he slowly whispered into his ear with a menacing tone._  
_"You were a mistake, we never wanted you; and no one will ever care about you because your a little disgusting freak! No one cares about little disgusting freaks, and no one will miss them if they die either." William pushed his son to the floor, and left him there as he cried._

END FLASHBACK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reid made it to his car, the tears had long since gone; but had left a relevant mark on his face. He came out of his memory with a start as he realized he has been crying. Shaky fingers brushed his cheeks as he stared at the drying tears in shock. There were tears stains on his face, and his eyes had turned red and puffy. He fumbled with his keys, wanting to get away as soon as possible. His slender fingers missed a key, and everything went falling to the floor; Reid included. Spencer placed his back onto the side of his silver car. His head was turned up as he looked up t the sky, as if the stars held answer. He stayed in that position, not wanting to come back to the real world at the moment. His eyes closed, letting fresh new tears cascade down his pale skin. With his hand, he hastily, and harshly wiped the tears from his face; hating himself for breaking down like he did. He cried there next to his car. He cried his heart out, hoping that no one would hear him. He cried as he heard footsteps head his way. He cried as he felt a kind hand touch his shoulder. Unwillingly he flinched away, remembering his father. "Sorry," He heard from whom he recognized as Morgan. Slowly he lifted his head, showing the fresh tears that dripped from his chin onto his jacket. Morgan kneeled down next to him.

"Hey there Reid, you okay?" Reid wanted to laugh. He was obviously not okay if he was crying. Yet he kept his mouth shut, and just nodded his head. Morgan gave him a doubtful look. Reid looked at him, swallowed the lump in his throat, and looked back down.  
"I'm okay, you should go back, there probably waiting for you." Reid kept his head down, stifling his sobs as a fresh wave of tears hit him. He waited for Morgan to leave, but he just stayed there; not moving an inch as Reid fidgeted uncomfortably.  
"You should g..." Morgan held up his copper hand, stopping Reid mid-sentence.

"I'm not going anywhere kid, your hurting, its your birthday, and we were thinking we would take you out where ever you anted tonight. So your gonna either tell me whats happening, or Ima bring Hotch out here, and you can explain to him why you ran out crying. So spill." Reid smiled as his older brother sat there waiting for an explanation. He knew that he wouldn't leave without one, so, he told him why. Reid kept his head down, not wanting to see Morgan's reaction. Slowly, he began his story.

"Every year, on my birthday, my parents would fight; more than usual. My dad used to beat my mother and I until we could barely move. My mom got most of the beating, but he'd make sure I got what I deserved later that night. I remember him coming into my room and locking the door. It would only lock from the inside, so my mom had no way of getting in. I would try to hide, but he would always find me. Every time, I wouldn't be able to stop him as he beat me senseless. He would always do this on my birthday to help me remember that it only when I was born that his life as ruined. That's why I ran out. I couldn't help remember those times when I was younger. I remember wishing the night before my birthday, each year I would do this, I would wish I was dead so I wouldn't have to go through the pain anymore. I'm sorry I ruined your night, you should go back, there probably worried about you." Morgan stared at him in disbelief. In all the years he'd known Reid, he had never heard of his life like he just did. Morgan cleared his throat before continuing.  
"Reid look at me," Reluctantly, Reid complied with his request. "You're gonna forget about what that asshole did, and your gonna build new memories here, with your real family, ok?" He talked softly as if he were to a child. Morgan stood briskly, bouncing as he did. He put his hand out in motion of assistance. Reid stared at the outstretched copper hand before taking it. Morgan pulled Reid to his feet almost too easily, and Reid nearly fell forward from the force. Morgan held him steady and clapped him on the back.

"Lets go inside alright?" Morgan placed a hand on his back and started to lead him toward the BAU building, unaware of the shadow trailing them from behind. They weaved through the cars, all the while, Reid tried not to fall over his own two feet. They laughed together as Morgan reminded him of the time he had to take care of the blond celebrity. Reid blushed as he remembered how much he had cared for her. Yet, they would never be able to be together. She was a beautiful starlet, and he was the FBI agent. Both of the young men walked under a light that had been turned on, due to the night coming on. Reid hated the dark, and as pleased to see the lucid light pierce through the night. He laughed as Morgan told him a remark that Rossi had said earlier.  
Reid could see the ground beneath him perfectly, yet in the blink of an eye, the light ceased; sending them both in to total darkness. Reid gave in involuntary yelp. Morgan laughed it off.

"Cmon pretty boy, the light just burned out. We'll have to tell maintenance about it. Now cmon, I bet Rossi already ate half of your birthday cake kid." He tugged on Reid's arm, but the kid wouldn't budge.

"Reid,cmon, I know your scared, but i'm here for you man. There's no need to be scared." He tried to bring Reid along a second time, and the result as the same. He looked at Reid, giving him a worried look.

"You ok pretty boy?" Morgan would have expected Reid to answer, and yet, a new voice sounded from behind Reid.  
"I'm afraid Dr. Reid has some important issues to attend to right now, so if you want to see him live, I suggest you put your gun on the floor, turn the other way, and count to a thousand." Morgan made no movement. The figure behind Reid chuckled, and pulled out hand pistol with a silencer attached. Reid's eyes grew wide as he saw the weapon from his peripheral vision. The figure then placed the gun to Reid's head, right above the temple.  
"Sir, I don't know who you are, but you don't have to do this. Just put the gun down, and no one will get hurt." He had both of his bronze hands up, showing that he had no weapon. It was the figures turn to speak.

" Oh, I'm not going to put this gun down, no, in fact, I'm going to use it to kill the only thing that has been stopping my fun for the last four years." He gave Reid a nudge forward, and placed his for arm across the young genius' chest. Reid's eyes showed terror as he felt the barrel of the gun on head. Morgan saw as he formed one word over and over again. He could barely read lips, but from hat he could read, he interpreted as 'Foyet'. His hands became fists, knowing who was behind the shadows.

" George, put the gun down before someone gets hurt." Foyet laughed again at Morgan's futile attempt to talk down the serial killer.  
"Now now Derek, you know the odds of me doing that, and you know the odds of his survival in my care." Foyet, using his other hand, touched Reid's face affectionately as he looked at Morgan. The mask he wore obscured Foyet's features, yet Morgan could recognize the cold blue eyes anywhere.  
"Now what I want you to do is place the gun on the floor, turn around, and count to a thousand. SO DO IT!" He didn't flinch as Foyet yelled the last bit. Quickly, he unsnapped his holster. Morgan pulled out his gun in a non threatening fashion. He slowly go to his knees and placed it on the floor.  
"Now slide it." Foyet ordered.  
Morgan did as he was told. Foyet gave a smile as he slowly bent down to pick it up. Reid bending with him. His eyes never leaving the agents form, gun never wavering from its stance at Reid's head. He climbed his way back to a standing position. Morgan began to pick himself from his kneeling stance, but Foyet forbade him to.  
"Ah ah Mr. Morgan, stay down unless you want a bullet threw his pretty little head."He motioned to the terrified Reid. His attention turned back to Morgan ho had continually given him the death stare throughout their entire encounter. Foyet's eyes creased as a smile spread across his face.  
"Goodbye Agent Morgan, say hello to Aaron for me." The gun that had been firmly placed onto the side of Reid's head now turned to a ne direction. Reid saw where it was going and tried to desperately bargain with George.  
"George, you don't have to do this, please you have me, just let him go. No one else has to get hurt, please just let him go." Tears had formed in his already red rimmed eyes. Foyet paid little attention, and only laughed bitterly as Reid begged. He pulled back the small lever on the gun until a distinctive clicking was heard. In the background, Foyet could still hear Reid begging. Foyet pointed his gun to Morgan, and fired.

CH. 3

"NO! Morgan! Please help him. Morgan! Morgan! Please just help him, take me if you want, but help him!" Foyet struggled to keep his captive within his grasp. He pulled out the rag that he had soiled with chloroform only minutes before. He grabbed Reid by his hair, pulling him back to a kneeling position. In the distance, Foyet heard heavy footsteps. He brought the rag up to Reid's face, making it evident of what he wanted to do. His struggles became fueled once again, and he started to careen this way and that. Foyet's arm came around Reid's neck, as he finally let go of Reid's hair. The young profilers hands came up, clawing into Foyets thick meaty hands.  
Reid's cries were muffled as Foyet slammed the sweet smelling cloth onto the young profilers face, making him yelp in pain from the initial impact. The sickly sweet smell invaded his nose, calming and weakening the young profiler to the core. His eyelids began to open and close as he fought for consciousnesses. The smell of the chloroform merged with his world, causing ripples in his vision. His hands became sluggish and hard to move as he gasped for the air that was not there. Foyet's hold on him grew weaker as Reid stopped his struggle. Reid's hands flopped to his sides as his head lolled to his right. The hazel eyes still partially open as he lost all consciousness. Foyet let the boy lean on him. He checked to make sure that the kid was truly asleep. His head snapped up as the footsteps got louder. In the night, he could hear Aaron call out for Morgan and Reid. Foyet smiled and returned to his work. Slowly, he partially uncovered the mouth of the young profiler, the breathing had become even and slow. Ringlets of mousy brown hair swept over the sleeping boys face. Foyet's smile widened, and he dropped the boy onto the ground. He impacted the hard cement with a thud, and lay still as a corpse.  
Morgan saw as Reid hit the floor, unconscious. He grunted from the pain as he continued to put pressure on his wound. His hands pushed at his belly where the bullet had entered. Morgan bent forward, trying to steady himself as the world careened around him. One hand was placed onto the cement as he tried to steady himself. Warm, thick fluid ran through his fingers, staining everything it came in contact with him. His thoughts became incoherent, and a veil of black started to rim his vision. He saw as Reid was dragged away. As Foyet picked him up, and threw him over his bulky shoulder. As he walked away with his best friend. He watched them until they disappeared around a corner.  
Morgan's eye lids grew heavier. He began to find it harder and harder to stay awake. Slowly, he lowered himself onto the ground, his head finding solid ground. Hotchner's footsteps grew louder until Morgan heard them stop. He felt strong hands push down on the wound, causing him to hiss in pain. Morgan could distinctly hear Hotch as his senses began to shut down. The sounds of sirens pierced the night air as Morgans head lolled to his right, the chocolate man now unconscious.

CH. 4

Morgan could hear a distant voice calling him back to consciousness. Slowly, his mind crawled back to reality, and a wave of discomfort hit him like a freight train. He groaned in pain as he accustomed himself to his situation. He felt a soft hand grab his as he tried to lift himself from the bed. A searing pain flared in his stomach,causing him to fall back into the soft pillows that held him. He turned his head to see who was holding his hand. He was not surprised that Garcia, his baby girl, was loyally at his side. He smiled, and turned his look to the ceiling. His joyful smile lasted mere seconds before the past event crammed themselves into his head. His eyes widened as he remembered Foyet's attack. He tried to prop himself up once again, but was stopped by the tender hands of Penelope Garcia.  
"Woah handsome, you need to rest."  
He brushed her off, and sat up as best he could. Her eyes were filled with worry, as were his. But Morgan's eyes had something that Garcia's didn't, brotherly love.  
"Penelope, where's Reid?" She broke eye contact and looked down at the floor. "He's missing isn't he" Morgan continued. Garcia merely nodded her head as he confirmed the truth. Her small voice came through as she told him the outline of what happened.  
"When Hotch got to where you were, well, lying; he didn't see anyone else there. He knew there was someone else there, which would be the person that shot you, and he didn't see Reid so he knew that the person who shot you has Reid. The ambulance came then, and you were taken here." she motioned toward his hospital room that contained at least a dozen stuffed animals, flowers, and a fresh platter of cookies. "It was Foyet." He said simply. "Foyet took him, and I don't remember why." Garcia got up to leave, but was stopped by Morgan's hand.  
"Where you going?"  
"I'm going to phone Hotch, and tell him your awake. He can help you remember, plus you need your sleep. So rest up, and I'll be right back." Morgan nodded and leaned back into the pillows, but he couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes he pictured Reid, his Reid,dead.  
"It was Foyet." He repeated to himself. "Foyet took him."

OUTSIDE MORGANS ROOM:

Garcia pulled out her bedazzled phone. Diamonds, and jewels covered her Galaxy S 4. She dismissed her kitten cover photo and dialed Hotchner's number. He picked up on the second ring.

"Hotchner."  
"Hey Hotch, I just wanted to call and tell you that Morgan's awake, and that... uuummmm..." Tears pricked the back of her eyes, and some succeeded in reaching the surface. Hotch heard sniffles on the other side of the line.  
"Take your time Garcia. what else did he say?"  
"Ummmm... he said it was Foyet." Hotchner could feel the air leave his lungs as he heard the name.  
"Are you sure?" He asked.  
"MMHHMM. I told him you'd come talk to him."  
"Of course, I'll drop Jack off at his aunts, and I'll be over there in thirty." Garcia heard a click, and the drone of the phone as the call disconnected. She looked down at her bright pink communication device. She numbly placed the phone back in the neon green purse. Garcia returned to Morgan's room. The injured man lay in his bed as he slept restlessly. Garcia could see as he began to fidget uncontrollably. The night terror that plagued her teammate worried her. Quickly, Penelope shook Morgan. Morgan woke with a start. A sheet of sweat caused his face to glisten in the hospital lights.  
"ssshhhhh," Garcia soothed, "It was only a nightmare, its okay." Morgan grabbed onto Garcia's wrist. She placed her hand on his.  
"It's okay hun, everything okay. Hotch will be here any minute." Morgan visibly relaxed as he collapsed back into the white pillows.

Morgan awoke to the sound of a chair scraping the floor. He opened his eyes to find Hotchner settling in to the uncomfortable hospital chair. Hotch gave him as close to a smile as he could produce.  
"Hotch, we have to find Reid. It was Foyet, Foyet took him. We have to find..."  
"Morgan! I know... goddamit I Know!"  
"Who told you."  
"Penelope"  
"Oh"  
"God... this is all my fault."  
"Hotch, don't start. You and I both know Foyet has it out for all of us. Don't you start blaming yourself."  
"Did he say anything?"  
"Who?"  
"Foyet."  
"Oh, yeah, yeah he said something."  
"What did he say."  
"God, Hotch. He told me why he was taking him. He told me that it was because Reid was the reason we caught him. That it was just because the kid is smart!" Hotchner's phone rang then; a restricted number flashed on the screen. Hotch began to rise from his seat, but was stopped when Morgan grabbed onto his wrist. "Take the damn call here Hotch." Hotchner nodded, and pressed the call button.  
"Hotchner."  
"Hotch, well if it isn't my favorite F. B. I agent. Tell me Aaron, have you found little Reid yet, or do I have to give you clues like I did for your wife?" Aaron visibly pales, he walks out of the room before Morgan could stop him.  
"Listen Foyet, don't you dare hurt him. He has nothing to with this. Leave him out of this!"  
"Nope, I'm afraid not Aaron. You see it's his fault I got caught in the first place. Now here's my theory, if I take him out of the equation, plus I continue having fun, equals you never catching me. Tell me Reid, is that right?" Hotchner became confused for a second until he heard Reid's timid voice.  
"Don't be shy Reid, tell them I'm right, and that you deserve to die." Hotchner waited, horrified for what came next.  
"You're absolutely right, I deserve to die." Reid's voice was grief stricken, he stuttered as the fear he felt ran through his body.  
"P-p-p-lease. D-don't let t-them hear t-this." Invisible tears could be heard as he shed every single ounce of water in his tiny body.  
"Shhhh, poor little Reid, you're too smart for your own good. You see, they have to hear everything. They have to learn that it's their fault you are to die. Especially Aaron's. He is the one that hired you wasn't he?" Hotchner felt the world around him collapse. It was his fault, this was all his fault. Reid's kidnapping was planned out from the beginning, ever since Foyet had been arrested.

Silent tears fell down his cheeks as he listened to Reid and Foyet on the line. "This is not Hotch's fault. You are simply a deranged man, Hotch has nothing to do with this." Aaron heard laughter on the other end. "Everything you say now will make no difference. I've heard it all before. Now Reid, any last words, special thanks you might want to give before we paint Morgan's home red? Hotchner's eyes grew wide, and he felt as he nearly sprinted to the waiting room where most of the team where sitting. "Prentiss! Rossi! Reid and Foyet are at Morgans' home. Get to Morgan's house. Now!" Both of the agents ran out the room, and seconds later, the screech of tires could be heard as they left the hospital's premises. Hotch placed the phone back next to his ear. He heard Foyet laugh at his attempt to save his employee, and friend.  
"You of all people should know it's too late Aaron. Now, where were we. Oh yes, Reid, any last words?"  
"Hotch? It's me, Reid, umm, *sniffle*, umm, just promise me that my mom will know what happened. Please, don't lie to her, she doesn't like being lied to. And, umm, tell Morgan that... tell him thanks. For being my first best friend. Goodbye Hotch." Hotch took in a shaky breath. "Goodbye Reid" What came next made him flinch. He wasn't prepared to hear the piercing sound as a single bullet ripped through the silence. He distantly heard the thump as something heavy fell to the floor. The phone in his grasp flew through the air, and impacted with the opposite wall. Tears streamed freely down his face. He forgot his pride, and let the sobs rack his body. His ears ignored the cries of his BAU family. Today was supposed to be a good day. A good God damned day, and it was his fault that it had all turned sour. His back the white wall, and he slid down until he hit the floor. He could hear Morgan in the distance, but did not answer. This was his fault. His fault... his fault... his fault. HIS GODDAMNED FAULT!

CH. 5

The annoying solid tone of disconnection rang through the house. The cellphone fell from Foyet's grasp, the drone still sounding throughout the entire apartment. Foyet smiled, the gun held firmly in his hand, and Reid's body below him. Blood freely flowed from the hole in the boys' skull. His eyes were still open, drying tears making them look lively. The bullet had come unexpectedly, causing the boy to have no reaction time.

George stared at the body contently before laying his gun on the glass counter, and grabbing the boy. He hauled the dead body up by the armpits, and proceeded to dragging the life less corpse to the bathroom. Reid's converse scraped against the carpeted floor of Morgan's home. His head hung forward, kissing his chest as he was dragged to the bathroom. Foyet opened the bathroom door, and dropped the body onto the floor. Reid dropped with a wet 'THWACK'. George bent down next to Reid's body. A small puddle had already begun to form underneath the boys head. Foyet pulled out a knife from his pocket, and slid it underneath Spencer's shirt. He moved the blade up, completely cutting off the boys' shirt. His hands moved quickly around the boys' body. He grabbed onto a thin arm, and pulled off the shirt. Foyet threw the ball of fabric across the bathroom, and continued on to taking off the boys' shoes, and socks. The shoes were placed neatly near the door, and the socks were thrown near what remained of the dress shirt. Foyet stood, and walked toward the tub. He bent and opened the tap. The water rushed out, it was cold.

Foyet straightened, and turned back to look at his artwork. Reid's body lay on the floor, the small pool of blood now clearly visible. Foyet's hand clutched the knife. He bent down, and swung the knife down. It embedded itself into Reid's pink flesh, causing the pale skin to be stained by blood. The knife went up and down seventeen more times, each bringing more crimson to the surface. Droplets of the bright red scattered themselves across Foyet's face. He paid no mind, as more and more blood decorated the walls and floor. He didn't care as his shirt became a grotesque tie-dye of red. The blood flew, and finally, ceased as Foyet leaned back. His breathing was heavy as he let the blade drop. It clattered to the floor, next to Reid's mutilated body.

Foyet stared at the ceiling, his heavy breathing now giving into a chuckle that slowly transformed into a hearty laugh. He grabbed his hair with his bloody hands, and pulled up his knees. His body curled up, and his nose touched the top of his knee caps. His laughter now turned maniacal as he let his hair go, and laughed to the ceiling. Minutes passed, and the eerie laughter died down to a giggle. He could still hear the water as it filled the basin.

Slowly, he grabbed hold of Reid's arm, and jerked it toward him. He let go, and slid his arm under Reid's back. Hoisting the upper body up, Foyet slid his other arm under Reid's legs, and succeeded in picking up the corpse. Holding the body, he walked over to the tub. Looking down, he lets go of the body. Water is catapulted into the air. Foyet doesn't flinch as the water drenched him from head to toe. The blood, now mixed with water, dances down his face, and shirt. An insane smile covered the majority of his face as he watched the water swirl with the color of red. His hand came forward, and ceased the flow of water. The eerie drips of remaining water echoed throughout the bathroom. Nothing was left. There was absolutely nothing left for Foyet as he stood there, stock still, watching the lifeless eyes of his recent kill.

CH. 6

A black S.U.V pulled into Morgan's driveway. It parked and two agents stepped out. One immediately ran up the stairs of the home, the other ran to the back end of the home. Agent Prentiss stood at the door, her fist making contact with the wood.  
"FBI Open up!" No answer came, so the agent tried again. Receiving no answer for the second time; she lifted her leg, and forcefully opened the door. Rossi heard the splintering of word before he actually saw what Prentiss had done. He came back around from encircling the home to the front of the building. He saw that the front door was missing, then as he drew closer, he could see that the door was now on the floor of the living room. Shattered glass sprinkled the floor, and an expensive looking coffee table lay underneath the mahogany door. Rossi hurried up the steps and into the living room, careful to avoid any of the glass. His attention turned to the downstairs kitchen. Footsteps where heard walking steadily to and fro on the kitchens wooden floor boards.  
"Emily?" He called out, raising his gun slightly. He saw her raven hair before anything. He let himself loosen up, and let the gun go back down to its original stance. Emily walked toward him, gun in hand.  
"It's clear. The only thing we need to check now is the upstairs. Let's go" Emily was the first up the steps, followed closely behind by Rossi.

Blood decorated the white carpet, leaving splashes of red and pink for those to remember what had happened. Footprints can be seen trailing to the bathroom that was at the far end of the hallway. A thin trial of blood ran alongside. The blood disappeared through a door which was slightly ajar. Emily cautiously stepped over and around the footsteps, her nerves on edge, and body rigid. A window burst open, wood hitting plaster. Emily jumped as her frayed nerves rocked her once again. Her gun became trained on the window, white curtains fluttering in the wind. They seemed innocent enough, but there was something off. Emily moved in closer, one hand grabbing a shutter; she began to move it close before she noticed a dark red stain on the hem of the material. Emily grabbed onto the white curtain for closer inspection, her hand coming in contact with the surprisingly warm fluid. The stain was fresh, and still dripping; leaving red streaks on the white window sill as the material moved back and forth in her grasp.  
"Rossi" She called to the senior profiler that stood behind her. He too busy looking at the color red. Only he was examining the blood red shoe prints that stained the carpet. "Call the team, and get an ambulance here. Now." Rossi pulled out his phone and dialed 9-1-1. His explanation was short and sweet. The hard part was calling the team.  
While Rossi phoned the team, Emily hesitantly made her way to the door. The light inside the room was on, but eerie feeling still creeped its way into her skin. She stood in front of the door, not wanting to go in; but needing to know what was inside. She needed to know where Reid was. If he was okay, that he was okay. Goosebumps littered her being as she gently pushed the door open. For the first time, she saw the bloody hand prints that was beneath the door knob, and on the doorknob itself. A chill runs up her spine at the sight, and an unmistakable dread fills her being as she sees pools of blood on the tile floor. Her gun lowered to her side as she felt her muscles relax against her will. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a white tub, streaked with red. She slowly walked over to the tub, and looked into the basin; afraid of what she would find. What she saw would haunt her dreams for the rest of her life. There was so much red. It was everywhere. On the walls, on the mirror, the door, the tub, and on HIM. On the man whom she viewed as a brother, and all that red came from him. HE was on the walls, on the mirrors, the door, the tub. Her mouth created an O, her hand came up to cover it. All hope was gone as she stared at the crimson world. She backed up to the wall until she could touch the cold plaster. Her gun fell to the floor, and her hand grasped the wall for balance. The world had suddenly become uneven, unfair. No man could survive so much blood loss Rossi walked in as she slid down the wall, both hands to her mouth, eyes watering. He came up to her, and gave her shoulder a squeeze. Rossi knew the truth as well. They were too late. There was nothing they could do but make the entire ordeal a little more tolerable.  
All Emily could do was point. She pointed to where the HE was, to where Reid lied; submerged in the pink waters. Rossi only nodded and helped her up. He led her out of the bathroom and onto the front porch. They stepped over the broken door, and sat on the steps. Sirens could be heard in the distance. Rossi held Emily as she cried freely. She had never really been one to cry, but at the moment she did not care about her image. Rossi himself struggled to hold back the tears that threatened to run down his cheeks. All he could see was the drastic contrast of red on white. It had been everywhere. Images of the footprints, of the puddles of blood ran through his mind as he held the shaking Emily. All his mind could think about was 'what if '. What would have happened if they had arrived sooner, if Reid had fought him off. If they hadn't arrested Foyet in the first place.  
His thoughts were interrupted when a screeching sound caused him to look up. He could see as the rest of the team made their way to Morgan's home. JJ, Garcia, and Hotch. His eyes where stained red. The images ran through Rossi's head again. A new thought came into his head. Their innocence had been taken, leaving them ugly and nude. Pure grotesque rage and grief was there for all to see with the death of their youngest.

Purity has been tainted.


End file.
